June 25, 2025

Years ago, I was in Wild Birds Unlimited when I heard, from across the room, a very distinctive New Orleans drawl. I knew that voice immediately—it was my 10th grade English and literature teacher, Beverly Billingsley. I couldn’t believe it! I walked up to her, and to my surprise, she recognized me right away. I was in my 60s then—a long, long way from being fifteen—but there we were, standing in the middle of that bird store, reconnecting after so many years.

Mrs. Billingsley was always one of my favorite teachers. She taught so much more than just English and literature—she taught me to journal, to put my thoughts down on paper, to express myself simply and sincerely. She opened my eyes to the beauty of the ordinary—to notice the smallest details in life and realize how extraordinary they truly are.

She taught me to slow down. To cherish each moment. To not take anything for granted.

One thing she said has stayed with me all these years. She once told our class about a student—someone whose name I’ve long since forgotten. She said she passed him one afternoon, sitting on a fence. And when she drove back by more than an hour later, he was still there, just sitting. Thinking. Not doing anything—just thinking.

She praised him for that.

She said we all need to learn how to do that. To stop. To sit. To think. To just be. In our busy lives, we don’t often give ourselves that kind of time. But that’s where the real treasures are found—in the quiet moments, the unhurried cups of tea, the laughter with a friend, the peaceful pause in the day.

Time is the most precious thing we’ll ever have. More valuable than anything money can buy.

Mrs. Billingsley is gone now, but her words and wisdom are still with me. Because of her, I began journaling all those years ago. And I still do. It’s how I see the world, how I hold on to the little moments, how I remember to be grateful to the Lord God.

I’ll always be thankful for the gentle, lasting lessons she gave me—lessons about life, about stillness, and about the priceless gift of simply paying attention. Thank you, Mrs. Billingsley!